


fright

by jaythewriter



Series: to know oneself [1]
Category: Game Grumps
Genre: F/M, Gen, Gender Confusion, Makeup, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-17 04:09:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4651728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaythewriter/pseuds/jaythewriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arin didn't expect to feel like that after Suzy had him try out her makeup. It's a bit terrifying, actually.</p>
            </blockquote>





	fright

**Author's Note:**

> okay! so, i have a friend who is a trans woman who would speak of a headcanon she has where arin is trans. i watched the video suzy posted where she put makeup on arin and i had thoughts, so i pretty much threw them on my phone while at work. i had said friend look this over to be sure it was accurate in terms of what a young gender-confused person might be feeling, and to check for anything unintentionally throwing shade over the trans experience. it nearly made her cry and she loves it so i feel okay posting it.
> 
> i may continue it, i may not, i'm teetering on 'not' but i get bored at work a lot, so.
> 
> trigger warning for arin's behavior, it might come across as somebody having a gay panic or dysphoria, i just want to cover bases there. pronouns used here are 'he' since he does not know what he is feeling (yet?), therefore he cannot put what he desires into words. written for the reader to interpret in terms of what he is.

Suzy finally unleashes Arin once she turns the camera off, laughing as he bolts from the room and slams into the door in his frenzied efforts to escape. She calls after him, likening his behavior to that of a dog being let off its leash.

When he makes it to the bathroom, he silently compares it to a dog escaping-- and being immediately shocked by its collar.

The first part of it's over; he isn't on camera anymore, and, honestly, he was having fun. He loves Suzy, loves the gentle attention she gave to his face. He agreed to sit down and allow her to sweep dust and swipe goop onto his face, he knew what he was getting into.

Still, here he is, leaning on the bathroom sink and heaving air like he just escaped a knife to the gut.

If it was truly so terrible, he should've been relieved once the camera shut off. No one is looking at him anymore, ogling the strange sight of this whiny man having his wife apply lip gloss to his pouting mouth.

But that's not the problem.

Arin lives for the feminine side of life. Glowing pink, tinting the skies as the sun sets. Glitter, lining the apples of Suzy's cheeks. Dresses flowing, whipping in the wind while he has princess Peach hopping about, or whoever was the prettiest character to play as-- it's nicer to look at a cute face than a grizzled one that hasn't smiled for likely twenty years.

The problem isn't the makeup.

It's him.

He runs his hands up and down his cheeks, watching the dust fall from his skin and create patches of odd discoloration on his palms. To his eye, the difference is minuscule. The gloss and liner are the worst offenders, standing out stark against his pale skin.

How does he get this shit off? He wants to call Suzy and have her help, her sweet voice would be just the medicine for what ails him but that means having her tease him, saying he's so so beautiful...

Switching on the faucet, he soaks his hands and grinds his fingertips into his eyes. He instinctively flinches, just as he did earlier, though he doesn't hold back in his shrieking and cursing now. The eyeliner stains his flesh black, flowing down the tiny indents and canyons in his fingers.

Looking up in the mirror, he sees the liner remains, heavy, trickles of grey scratching down his face and dripping from his chin stubble.

Getting another handful of water, Arin drowns his eyes, rubbing far too hard to compensate for his wincing. He must be yelling; Suzy's by the door now, raising her own voice so that she can ask what the hell is going on in there.

"I'm fine!" he lies to his wife, despite every nerve screaming at him for it. He physically cannot lie to her, his insides surge and he actually retches in disgust at himself. "No, no, I'm not, fucking /fuck/ I'm not..."

Suzy is inside the room before he finishes speaking. She darts to his side, running a loving hand up and down his round stomach. Is he sick? Did he hurt his eye?

He can't get the words out. He's scared, that much he says, but what is he scared of?

(He likes this he wants it every day he could always have a soft face painted into something maybe not of human understanding something that he would feel closer closer to--)

His eyes sting, it's the pain and Suzy keeping him from coming apart at the seams. This fear reminds him of being a child, just knowing there's a monster in the closet even though he never saw eye nor ear of it. It's there, it's waiting, and he can't avoid it forever.

It will find him and he will have to face it.

"Arin?"

Thank god for Suzy, though. Thank god for her soothing voice, her hands tracing circles into his back, her huge eyes that see into him and can tell, he just can't talk about this yet.

What he does need is help getting this stuff off his face, and Suzy does just that for him. She hefts him up to sit on the tub edge, swiping the makeup away with damp cotton balls that reek of alcohol.

He relaxes into the kiss that she presses to his forehead, not quite calm but closer to it.

No more makeup videos for him.

Not for a while.


End file.
